Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 11 |
| Besieged |
| The next day, Pippin's third in Minas Tirith, was dreadful. It began, as usual, with him reporting for duty at the third hour. Denethor was still wearing his dark mail and sword under the heavy black furred robe and seemed preoccupied, barely noticing Pippin's arrival. Gandalf, Hurin and the Outland captains came in soon after and Pippin helped the gentlemen in waiting set chairs for them. "Still no news from Faramir." Hurin told his uncle grimly. "He should have met the enemy no later than yesterday afternoon, and his courier, telling of the result, reached us long since." *Unless there was no one left to bring tidings.* Pippin thought. And looked worriedly at his master. Yes, that was what Denethor - what they all - feared. Imrahil turned to Gandalf. "Can you See anything, Mithrandir?" The wizard shook his head. "There is a darkness over Osgiliath that defeats my Sight." "And mine." the Steward said, as grimly. "Then we must go and seek news." Imrahil said firmly. "Dol Amroth will reinforce Faramir." "No." said Denethor, and as Imrahil glared at him. "You accused me last night of wasting lives, but I spent only what Gondor could afford to lose. All who could be spared rode with my son. If we send more we will not have enough to hold the walls." "The Lord Steward is right." Gandalf agreed. "We have no more strength to risk on such ventures - at least until Rohan comes." "But will Theoden come?" Lord Hirluin asked. "Will he remember our old alliance?" "He will come." said the Wizard heavily. "Even if he comes too late." *For all the good it will do us then.* thought Pippin. Word came, finally, in the afternoon and it was bad, though not as bad as it might have been. Faramir was alive but had been repulsed with great loss. He was falling back to the Pelennor wall and Causeway forts but did not expect to be able to hold there long. "It is the Nazgul Lord that defeats us." the messenger told the Steward and his Captains. "Even our bravest quail at his coming. And his own followers fear him no less, yet they would slay themselves at his bidding." Pippin remembered Weathertop and shivered. "Then I am needed there more than here." said Gandalf, and strode swiftly down the hall and out the great doors. Pippin looked after him in dismay but Denethor, sunk in his own dark thoughts, seemed scarcely to notice. "If my son wins back across the Pelennor at all it will be with the enemy hot at his heels. Unless Rohan comes soon we are undone." then he roused himself and turned to Pippin. "You are dismissed Master Peregrin." and rising from his throne went out a side door of the Hall, his gentlemen servants hurrying in his wake. So Pippin went back to his lodging to eat a solitary lunch and supper and spent the long night huddled in a chair on his balcony, eyes straining eastward for the first glint of white that would be Gandalf returning. But the wizard did not come. He was wakened from a fitful doze by the bell sounding the first hour of the day, though all was still as black as night. Rubbing his eyes he sat forward and saw red fire flare north and east, and after a moment a dim rumble reached him like distant thunder. Thowing aside his blanket he ran down the stairs and out of the house then up the lane and through the arch into the Court of the Tree. Men and Women lined the walls of the great stone buttress, eyes bent anxiously northward. Pippin spotted Beregond among them and pushed in beside him. "What is it? What's happening?" "They have taken the wall." the Man replied grimly. "They are blasting breaches in it. The Enemy comes." "Oh, where is Gandalf?" Pippin all but wailed. "And where is Faramir?" asked Beregond, as bleakly. *** Pippin went to the Hall at his usual hour but the Steward was not there. Instead one of his gentlemen servants stood waiting to take the Hobbit through the side door Denethor had used yesterday, along a gallery and up a winding stair to a chamber high in the White Tower. His master took no notice of him, but stood looking intently through the eastward window. After a moment Pippin dared to come to his side and look out too. The plain of the Pelennor was dark, the houses abandoned and their folk safe within the City wall, but at its eastern edge fires burned, and standing beside Denethor it seemed to Pippin he could almost hear the clash of weapons and see tiny figures fighting. Abruptly the Steward moved away, going to look out of the northern window. Pippin stayed where he was and at long last saw the gleam of white he'd watched for all night. Gandalf and Shadowfax at the head of a line of wagons, escorted by a few horsemen. Pippin wet his lips, dared to break the brooding silence. "My Lord, Gandalf returns." Silently Denethor returned to his side and together they watched the White Rider enter the City gates and gallop up the seven circles to the Court of the Tree, dismount and disappear into the tower. After a few moments a gentleman in waiting opened the door to the Steward's chamber and Gandalf entered, white robes spattered with black Orc blood, looking as grim and weary as Pippin had ever seen him. Denethor asked the only question that mattered: "Is Faramir returned?" "No," the wizard answered, "but he still lives and is unwounded. He is resolved to stay with the rearguard and cover the retreat of as many Men as may be saved, but I doubt they can hold for long. The one I have feared is come." "Not the Dark Lord!" Pippin blurted, forgetting his place. Denethor laughed bitterly. "Nay, not yet, Master Peregrin. He will not come save to triumph over me after all is won." "It is the most fell of his Captains, the one I spoke of before, Pippin, the Witch King of Angmar Lord of the Nazgul who is come." Gandalf said quietly. The Steward's lip curled. "Then, Mithrandir, you have a foe to match you. Or can it be you have withdrawn because you are overmatched?" Pippin flinched, expecting an explosion, but the wizard answered quite gently: "It might be so, but the time for our trial of strength is not yet come. I came to guard the wounded saved from Osgiliath and the Rammas." "Let us go down." said Denethor. *** Bands of Men, weary and often wounded, trickled back to the City all that dark morning and afternoon as Faramir slowly striped the forts of their defenders. Each new groups reported him still alive and still - somehow - holding Men to his will even in the face of the Captain of Despair. Denethor's hands were clenched, white knuckled, on the arms of his throne. Pippin hovered at his side in growing fear. If Faramir fell what would become of his father? If only they hadn't parted as they had - in mutual hurt and anger. Now that it was too late Pippin bitterly regretted his silence. If only he'd spoken - at the very least he might have made them think again! When the rearguard came, if they did, they would be hotly pursued, Prince Imrahil drew up his swan knights in the square inside the Great Gate ready to sortie to Faramir's support. But they were not needed. It was a breathless guard, run all the way from the Great Gate seven hundred feet below, who brought word that the Enemy was at the walls and Lord Faramir returned - alone - dragged at the heels of his exhausted horse. Denethor ran out of the Hall, Pippin and his gentlemen right behind, just as Faramir was carried into the court and set down beside the dead Tree. "Faramir!" he cried, casting himself on his knees beside his son. "Say not that he has fallen!" "They were outnumbered." the fair haired Captain of the Citadel told his Lord bluntly. "None survived." "My sons are spent..." Denethor staggered to his feet, stumbled away from Faramir's inert body. "My line has ended!" *No, please no, not Faramir too!* Pippin knelt beside the litter, touched the Man's face. And Faramir's eyelids fluttered as if he wanted to open them but hadn't the strength to do so. "He's alive!" "The House of Stewards has failed!" the father wailed. "He needs medicine, My Lord!" Pippin called desperately after him - but Denethor didn't seem to hear. "My line has ended! "My Lord!" Pippin pleaded, unheeded. The Steward reached the wall and stopped, struck motionless by whatever he saw below. Pippin, still crouched over Faramir, heard the crash of falling stone and screams rising from the city below. Suddenly, shockingly, Denethor cried aloud in a voice of thunder: "Abandon your posts! Flee! Flee for your lives!" Citadel Guards, gentlemen in waiting, even the normally immoveable Fountain Guards exchanged horrified looks. Pippin saw Gandalf and Lady Idril come through the arch between the King's Hall and the White Tower. The Lady stopped, staring at her father as if she couldn't believe her ears. But Gandalf strode towards him in an angry swirl of white robes and, as Denethor turned away from the wall, struck him full in the face! Then a second blow to the stomach knocked Steward to the ground. Gandalf whirled on on them, eyes blazing. "Prepare for battle!" After a stunned moment everybody began to move; Guardsmen to the stair in Gandalf's wake; the gentlemen in waiting to see to their Lord; and Idril to bend over her brother. Pippin looked up, and was shocked by the bitter anger in her face. "I told you didn't I?" she said to the unconscious Man. "I hope you're satisfied, Brother. You may have ruined us all!" only then did she seem to notice the Hobbit. "You know where the Houses of Healing are do you not, Peregrin? Run now and tell them we have need of a healer for the Lord Faramir and the Lord Steward." |